


one last time

by shleesus



Category: Keyakizaka46 (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, F/F, One Shot, POV First Person, happy ending? HELL NO, lowkey happy to sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 04:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14488911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shleesus/pseuds/shleesus
Summary: There just comes a time when you can't see the stars in her eyes anymore. And that isn't the most terrifying thing yet.





	one last time

**Author's Note:**

> keyaki needs more fanfics so i made one. i thought it was impossible to write something about 2 ppl with the same name so guess what— im writing in first person!!!! it’s yuipon’s pov so enjoy :)

She is a sunshine in winter, very rare yet warmth surrounds my entire being whenever she shines. Her laugh is ever so hypnotizing, it bubbles over champagne. The places she had caressed me evoked butterflies, a sparkling abyss in her eyes showed her gentleness. 

 

I didn’t need to glance over her again knowing this girl had painted my colorless life. She is everything I needed for myself, nothing like I would’ve ever asked for however it is nothing I deserved. What have I ever done in my life to receive all of this overwhelming affection?

 

Remembering how she rested a guitar on her lap and delicate fingers strummed the vibrating strings, oh how beautiful it had sounded. How she sang with her eyes closed and her voice rang in the sweetest, most delicate sound. I repeatedly, not knowing how to stop, fell in love with this girl.

 

The day she fell ill was the day I felt endlessly in love. Realizing this genuine feeling impelled my soul to never give up on her. A faint smile with a slight spark ignited within her eyes as she shyly rasped out, “sing for me?” 

 

I was convinced that I couldn’t sing to her in this condition, but as her delicate fragile hands grabs on to mine, I feel as though she radiated reassuring words. Even if my hands trembled, I picked up a guitar. Even if my voice failed to utter soothing tones, the applause she gave me was all it took for me to fear losing her. 

 

Those days she had struggled to even mutter words felt like a disaster— it was something I couldn’t bare to see. A month or two had gone by and she decides to cut her hair short, her bangs not reaching her eyebrows anymore. Her cheeks became less plump, and her body had gone limp. I despised myself for leaving her alone in our home, because there was no minute or second in my day I didn’t have her in my thoughts. 

 

One night I came home to see her in an unusual position, sitting comfortably on her bed, playing with those clockwork toys she’d always kept beside her table. Her lips curved into a slight smile told me she had enjoyed their company. 

 

Upon noticing me, her smile expanded into a sheepish grin. With a small greet, I walked toward her, maybe a bit faster like tonight was different than others. It was like my body had itched for her embrace, her warmth, her whole being. 

 

Arms surrounded her tiny body and a peck on her cheek before muttering sweetly, “I’m home.” 

 

The bed sank as I sat, I admired her features and circled my thumb over her smaller hands that fit perfectly with mine. With the sunken abyss displayed in her eyes and a smile containing no lies she calls my name, “Yui, let’s go to the balcony.” 

 

With a rather uncommon request, I foolishly agreed. Draping a thick jacket over her fragile body after guiding her to stand up, both of us proceeded to the balcony effortlessly. Seeing her clutch the jacket to cover herself from the strong breeze of this cold night filled my chest with regret. 

 

The stars from above shines below her as she gazes beyond the houses of this lonely town. My eyes never left her figure, guarding her carefully. The streetlights had not shone near her yet all is dark but her. I had realized I owned a dull heart. 

 

My breath hitched when her eyes turn to me, accompanied with a soft expression though all I could feel was myself suffocating over her presence. A wave of shivery air allowed her hair to sway beautifully but as of that moment my body couldn’t recognize her anymore. 

 

Warm hands grabbed my arms as I stood there unresponsive, yet willing to stand by her. She pushed herself close to my body, finding warmth she believed existed in me. A second later and she’s hugging my neck loosely, raising herself up to capture my lips. Tenderly and willingly, she moves. 

 

Forever wishing to last, the kiss we shared broke comfortably and she nuzzles her nose on mine. I feel her smile spreading so I refuse to open my eyes, I only wanted to hold her close to forget the terrifying vision that overcame my own self. 

 

She lands her feet even at the platform after the cherished moment, my hands instinctively catch her hips as she holds on to me. She gazes up to meet my eyes again and I limitlessly search for a spark I couldn’t feel. She has this expression on her face that told me how much trust she has in me, and helplessly, she says, “Yui, don’t ever get tired of me.” 

 

Hearing those words spoken like a plea from someone I know best, it was the first time I couldn’t agree on something from her. My lips couldn’t open and my throat itched to say a promise but she never expected an answer. So I embrace her closer, tighter, because that’s the only thing I could do.

 

The day she recovered from her illness was the day all worries buried in my chest disappeared. Since that day I couldn’t find an answer to her requisition, I began confusing myself on how she drove herself to think I’d get tired of her. Everything was the same after that night, only a little less delightful.

 

And slowly the times we spent together was less treasured, like everything was done as a routine, like everything was done willingly yet forcefully. I isolated myself into thinking I loved her nonchalantly than before. I just wanted to hold on to her a little longer.

 

But there was nothing left to hold on to, nothing whole and hearty. I unbelievably knew this in the broken bottom of my heart. I tried everything I could do, hug her, kiss her, give her everything I can because none of us know when it would be the last one. Although I am terrified if I couldn’t remember these memories.

 

Aimlessly walking around the streets while the night was still young, she kept her hands tangled behind her back. With a comfortable distance, I watch closely as she walked peacefully. 

 

She halts her steps in front of a park and turns to me, revealing lips pressed into a compact smile. I stop right before her, waiting for her usual banter. Nothing appalled me more than her asking such an unexpected question. “Yui, are you tired of me?” 

 

I was astonished, to say the least. With a heart holding nothing but compressed apologies, I ridiculously shook my head and huffed a breath of frustration, “no, of course not. Why ask me that suddenly?” 

 

She turns her head away from me, inhaling, “so you are. Don’t worry, I won’t get worked up about it.” The way she smiled bitterly and avoided my eyes told me otherwise. Her movements followed with a flinch as if she was burning inside before she looked down at her feet and ran a hand through her hair.

 

“I’m sorry for making you do all of this. This— I mean, taking care of me for how many months was tiring don’t you think?” A harsh breath was sighed and her voice cracks into a silent shiver. I could only stand in front of her, trying to realize what I’ve done.

 

“I know you didn’t want to take care of me anymore, I know you didn't want this kind of burden anymore even before I told you to not get tired of me. So I’m sorry for being desperate.” She couldn’t look at me now, now that she had said those words she dared speak of. Pity, pity is all I could feel and I’m pathetic.

 

“So I think this is done. I— both of us want this so let’s just go back home, okay?” She turns around, not wanting to show her face in front of me and all I could do is agree. Nothing in me had the strength to debate anything else.

 

Nothing else shakes my whole being than the deafening silence as chilly air surrounds my body. I couldn’t accept the numbness overcoming me as though I could feel the vulnerability boiling in my veins. And we were just walking home.

 

A week after her recovery and she decides to cook for me. Days after the discussion, she never stopped doing what she could for the memories to last, and I gladly allowed myself to love her more than I could. But this day was the last one.

 

There’s a painful boil in my chest whenever I see her face that displayed nothing more than acceptance. The day was already half spent, and her bags stood beside the entrance hall of our apartment. The sudden smell of her cooking sent me a bit of nostalgia, and a jolt of regret.

 

Udon. A bowl of hot udon was served before me, and the smoke spiralling above the freshly cooked soup and I couldn’t help but smile. 

 

She sits in front of me, with her own bowl. A slight meeting of the eyes, I start eating. A tasty broth absorbed in the noodles was very much appetizing, the sudden memory of my first taste came in to mind. Nothing changed at all. Everything was cooked in the same manner, with the same passion and love put in. 

 

“It’s delicious,” I murmured, not meeting her expectant eyes. I chewed repeatedly and in silence, only focusing on the meal. I did everything I could not to glance at her, because who knows how much I could break with the vague memory of her smile the first time I complimented this.

 

Her chopsticks finally moved after hearing my words, unconsciously replying with a small, “thank you.” She, also, tried too hard to not glance, but this was the last time. The last time seeing me eat the udon she cooked everytime she was happy, but this one was heartbreaking. So with glassy eyes, she took a bite.

 

Sniff. My head snapped up to see what I exactly heard. There was a worried frown planted on my face seeing the sight. I lowered my chopsticks to lay on the tall bowl. Tears ran slowly on her cheeks, burning her skin as she dropped hers. 

 

The burning on my chest was excruciating, I felt my lips shake as I tried to speak. Hearing her sobs wasn’t how I imagined it would be. I was relieved she finally let out her tears after holding them back for too long. It’s been there for how many days, and now it’s all out. Yet seeing her trying to stop hurt even more.

 

Her tears were dropping on her udon. “Hey there, now,” I started slowly, “don’t make your food salty,” I try to lighten the mood. She only let out a gasp of air as she struggled to keep her chest from aching. Every tear only meant regret, not relief anymore. 

 

“I—” A pause for a shaky gasp, “I really loved you the most in the whole world, Yui,” she slowly, but clearly let out, wiping her tears with forearm on the sweatshirt I gave her. My eyebrows knit together as I tried to keep my tears away. My fingers touch together between my nose to hide my mouth. 

 

My cheeks feels the painful warmth of my tears. My throat went dry again and my chin trembled. I close my eyes and only dreamt of how much our relationship would go further if all of this never happened. With a shiver, I replied, “Me too. I loved you too. Maybe too much.”

 

She broke into uncontrollable pants hearing what she eagerly wanted to hear one last time before she leaves. She could only nod, repeatedly, eyes squeezed closed with ceaseless tears dropping and a barely healed heart. 

 

Both of us ate again. I wouldn’t want to wish to eat outside because this is the last time, anywhere would be fine if it meant I got to see her smile I once adored. The pain in my chest explains how I gave her everything I feared. Nothing else hurt more. 

 

But watching her leave stung my whole soul. Everything went smooth, she cooked for me, we ate together, she said goodbye. But why. Seeing her back turned from me sent a panic and my hands itched to stop her, what if I never see her face again? Seeing her open that door and leave easily put nothing but shame on my being. 

 

I had only wished everything went slowly. I had only wished to see her face again and say goodbye, too. I had only wished she stayed.

**Author's Note:**

> did you know that writing a 2k one shot for 6 whole days is fic writer culture at it's best? no wonder it's 3am when i finished this. thanks for reading!


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